


Some Kind Of Violent Bliss

by bubbleguchi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Chimaera & Seraphim AU, DOSAB AU, Enemies to Lovers, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Minor Character Death, Swordfighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:13:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29208669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bubbleguchi/pseuds/bubbleguchi
Summary: Shouyou remembers the scene in vivid detail. He remembers lying on the ashen battlefield, arm practically cleaved from his body. He remembers watching as the wings of his brethren dimmed and died out, their lives coming to inevitable but premature ends. He remembers the chimaera boy, tall and lithe, with eyes like the dusk sky and coal-dark hair, glossy horns curving upwards from his head. Yes, best of all, Shouyou remembers the boy who saved him. How could he forget, when that boy, by all rights, by every law of nature, should have killed him?-x-An AU based on the book series 'Daughter of Smoke and Bone' by Laini Taylor.(Title from 'Wedding Song' by Yeah Yeah Yeahs)
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Comments: 12
Kudos: 11
Collections: Among Friends Server Valentine's Day Fic Exchange





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FireHeartAW](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireHeartAW/gifts).



> SO [REDACTED] AU IS FINALLY HERE!!!
> 
> Of course, this is for Andie, because everyone already knows that she's my Valentine! I really hope you love reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!! Love you forever and always, cookie xoxo
> 
> And MASSIVE thanks to Jenna, who betaed this whole thing and hyped me up when I had doubts. I am FOREVER in your debt and I adore and cherish you <3
> 
> Anyway guys, happy reading!!!!

Shouyou remembers the scene in vivid detail. He remembers lying on the ashen battlefield, arm practically cleaved from his body. He remembers watching as the wings of his brethren dimmed and died out, their lives coming to inevitable but premature ends. He remembers the chimaera boy, tall and lithe, with eyes like the dusk sky and coal-dark hair, glossy horns curving upwards from his head. Yes, best of all, Shouyou remembers the boy who saved him. How could he forget, when that boy, by all rights, by every law of nature, should have killed him?

-x-

Tobio cannot sleep. After a long night of tending the wounded and consecrating the dead, he should be ready to drop, but he isn’t. He can’t stop the whirring of his mind, the questions of _why?_ and _what now?_ Because Tobio saved the life of an enemy soldier; a seraph, fire taken form in his flaming eyes and blazing hair, a creature of deadly and devastating beauty. A creature of destruction.

There is no logical reason for what Tobio did. As many questions as he asks himself, he finds no answer. All he knows is when he saw the boy – because surely he was but a boy, small and still – Tobio had not sensed danger. Instead, he had sensed fear, the fear of a boy who was not ready to die.

So Tobio didn’t let him.

He approached the seraph hesitantly, for even a soldier with one arm can cut you down. But the boy had lain still, the only signs of life in his laboured breaths and grimace of pain. The clip of Tobio’s cloven hooves on the barren ground did not stir the boy. Not until Tobio crouched beside him did the boy react, eyes wide in anticipation of his demise.

Of course, it never comes. Instead, Tobio had knelt beside him, fingers ghosting so delicately across the boy’s fevered brow. The wound at his shoulder was large, gaping in a way that, left untreated, would cost the boy his arm at least, his life at most. Trained eyes moving quickly, Tobio had taken in the blood and bruises that had covered the rest of the seraph’s body. None were as pressing as the one that nearly wrought his arm from his body, so they would have to be ignored.

Tobio is skilled in healing, having been trained since his youth for such work on the battlefield. Of course, all of his training was focused on the healing of _chimaera,_ and to hear his tutors tell it, the differences between seraphim and chimaera are infinite.

But as he looked at this terrified young man, clawing at death’s door, Tobio could see no difference. All he saw is someone who did not deserve to die.

The silence was deafening as Tobio reached into his medical bag for supplies, moving slowly so as not to startle the boy. The seraph was motionless as Tobio patched him up the best he could – if properly treated soon enough, the boy may even get to keep his arm. As Tobio secured the last bandage, the seraph raised a sun-kissed hand to rest on Tobio’s arm.

“Why are you doing this?” he whispered, the molten copper of his eyes swimming with unshed tears.

Tobio didn’t have an answer then, just as he doesn’t now.

-x-

“Hinata? Hinata!”

Shouyou is snapped out of his daydreams by the sound of Daichi’s voice. He can hear Tsukishima snickering from somewhere to his side, but he doesn’t have the willpower in him to retaliate.

“Sorry, Daichi, what were you saying?” he asks instead, pointedly ignoring his insufferable sparring partner.

“I was saying,” Daichi starts, tone firm, “that you can’t keep getting distracted during sword practice. It’s dangerous, Hinata.” His tone is softer at the end, tinged with a pity that Shouyou can’t stand.

It’s been months since his injury, the one that almost lost him his sword arm, and he is still far from recovered. As soon as he was cleared to return to the field, he’d set to training with his other hand, determined not to lose the one skill that made him useful. But it’s been slow going, especially with how occupied his mind seems to be with visions of inken hair and steely eyes.

“I know. Sorry. It won’t happen again.”

Determination renewed, Shouyou grips his sword and lowers into his battle stance. Tsukishima moves to face him, that characteristic, insufferable smirk on his face.

“Come on now, Hinata,” he taunts. “I thought you were supposed to be good at this?”

“Shut up, Tsukishima,” Shouyou pushes out through gritted teeth.

Then he lunges.

The screech of steel on steel sings out in the courtyard as Daichi watches on, shouting encouragement and instructions. But Shouyou is still losing. He’s stiff and clunky with his left arm, not nearly agile enough to keep up with Tsukishima’s impressive reach or dodge his heavy blows. Without his muscle memory and usual electric energy, Shouyou realises that he is no match for Tsukishima’s superior height and strength. He realises that he is simply not good enough. In too little time Shouyou is forced to concede, yelling in frustration as he falls to his knees in the tough, dry dirt.

“Tsukishima,” Daichi’s voice comes from above, “go take a break.” The sound of footsteps, then the feel of a hand on Shouyou’s good shoulder. “Hinata, get up.”

Shouyou obeys, stumbling to his feet and wiping his face against the inside of his elbow. He’s not _crying_ – _obviously_ it’s just sweat. He still holds his sword weakly in his left hand as he looks up at his mentor.

“I know you’re frustrated, but I think you’re pushing yourself too hard.”

“I have to get better,” Shouyou practically pleads.

“You have to let yourself _heal,”_ Daichi replies, clapping him once more on his uninjured shoulder. “Go get cleaned up. Get some rest, Hinata.”

Defeated, Shouyou watches as Daichi retreats. He does as he’s told, returning his sword to the weapons rack and heading to the barracks to wash up.

Members of his battalion greet him as he passes, but he ignores them, already too used to their pity. He gets it – he’s lucky to be alive. There had been a lot of questions asked as to how he even managed to survive; just who had so efficiently cleaned and bandaged his wound? Shouyou had told them that he had been unconscious, and of course they believed him. Why would he lie?

Part of him believes he really had been unconscious. There is no other feasible explanation for what had happened on that battlefield other than that Shouyou dreamed it. The beautiful chimaera boy who had treated his wound with the gentlest of touches must have been a figment of Shouyou’s imagination. There is no way such an expression of tenderness could have really come from a chimaera, no way that one of those beasts could have saved his life.

But that boy hadn’t looked like a beast. There had been the undeniable animal quality of his slender, antelope legs, of his waxy, bat wings and his sharp, midnight black horns. But that lovely, human face; the smoothest, pale skin, the silken strands of jet hair that brushed just above the most captivating eyes of the deepest, coolest blue. Yes, this boy had to be the result of a fever dream concocted by Shouyou in his delirious, half-dead state.

At least, this is what he keeps telling himself.

-x-

Sleep becomes increasingly easier as time passes, slotting itself like a protective barrier between Tobio and the most terrifying decision of his life, but it is always filled with dreams of the boy made of flame.

Did he survive? Did Tobio actually manage to save the life of a seraph? And if so, was it the right choice?

Sometimes Tobio finds himself falling deep into a pit of fear and self-doubt. What if that seraph goes on to kill countless chimaera? What of those he has already killed?

For both the chimaera and the seraphim, war is a way of life, and has been since long before Tobio was born. The two races have been at war for so long that neither would flinch at the thought of slaying a member of the other. So why did Tobio?

It’s not like Tobio is unused to the reality of war; he’s been involved in many battles, and is more than able to defend himself. And he has killed before. Clean hands are a luxury that very few can afford in this land, and Tobio has never once felt shame for the lives he has taken. He has only ever done what he needs to stay alive and protect those he loves.

It seems a sad turn of events that he may now come to regret a life saved.

Even more so that he appears to be captivated by the owner of said life, the seraph consuming Tobio’s thoughts with a burning intensity, whether asleep or awake. That creature of fire, with eyes of earth and amber, that smoldering boy who had so feared death. If Tobio were to ever regret saving a life, he doesn’t think it could ever be that one.

-x-

It wasn’t a dream. There is no way that boy was a mere mirage, and Shouyou has driven himself half-mad trying to find proof. And he can feel himself changing because of it.

Shouyou has always been a soldier; he was born for it, bred for it in fact. His first memory is of being taken from his mother and handed a sword. Throughout the entirety of his training, the entirety of his _life,_ he has been taught that chimaera are scum. That he should feel nothing, no remorse or regret, about killing them.

But as he remembers the boy, horned and hoofed, who saved his life for no reason, Shouyou can’t help but think that maybe it’s all been a lie.

And he won’t rest until he proves it.

Shouyou has never been the studious type. He has never needed to be, having the innate ability to move on instinct alone, and better understanding things by doing them rather than reading about them. Such is expected of a warrior. But now, injured and forced to reduce his training hours, Shouyou finds himself immersed in books, absolutely absorbed as he learns the history of the war, about how the world was before the centuries of bloodshed.

Most of it is propaganda of course, painting the seraphim as a force for good and the chimaera as that of evil. Shouyou despises himself for once believing such blatant bending of the truth, but he reads on. He finds the grains of truth within the mire of vitriol, learns of the origins of the seraph empire and the chimaera who fought simply for their land and their lives.

And now the remorse and regret comes in waves, washing over Shouyou and threatening to drag him under. He thinks of the destruction he has wrought in the name of his nation, his faceless emperor, and he seethes. That one chimaera boy has done more for Shouyou than his emperor ever has, and he has been repaid with the slaughter of his kin.

Shouyou vows to repay him properly one day. He’ll do everything he can to be worthy of the life that beautiful boy gave him.

-x-

Tobio has always been grateful for his wings. Not all chimaera are blessed with them; after all, the chimaera are not a single species, but a collection of many that were forced to band together to resist the forces of the seraphim. Tobio is of a species whose name has been long forgotten, an elegant mix of human, antelope, and bat.

His lithe build and broad wings bring him a speed and agility that perfectly befit a healer, able to dip in and out of a fray to provide care without ever finding himself backed into a corner. Of course, if he ever were forced to fight, his foe would deeply regret challenging him, his skill with twin blades both sublime and deadly.

All in all, Tobio is well equipped to take care of himself, and it is for this reason that he is permitted to fly alone, instead of scouting in pairs like the other soldiers. This reason, and the fact that few are rushing to be his partner – while attractive, Tobio is domineering and brusque, making him rather unpopular among his peers. Not that he cares. Not that he’s lonely.

As he ascends, wing beats a pulsing rhythm in his ears, Tobio feels free. He could almost forget his loneliness, his feelings of hopelessness in this endless war. He could almost forget the seraph, fire given breath, afraid as he lay on a field of ash and ruin. Almost.

There is nothing to see for miles, the chimaera capital city hidden underground in a series of caves to shield them from seraph scouts. Life beneath the earth is not one Tobio would have chosen for himself, but it is all he has ever known.

The faint heat of the setting sun on his skin reminds him once more of the seraph.

Tobio beats his wings harder, flying swiftly away from the capital and east, toward seraph territory. There is no logic to his actions, no rational motivation, just the memory of a boy and the hope that things can someday be different.

-x-

No one stops Shouyou as he makes his way, on foot, towards the border of the camp. The guards do not question him as he takes off on his wings in a cloud of dust and heat. Not a soul speaks as he veers west into the darkening sky, out of seraph domain and into the unknown.

-x-

The land below Tobio is unchanging, the same wasteland stretching dry and dismal towards the horizon. There is no visible border, no definite way for Tobio to know if or when he has crossed into seraph territory, but he isn’t thinking about that right now. He’s barely thinking at all, truth be told.

When Tobio was young and green, he had flown out here with his mentor. Sugawara was another trainee, only a few years older than Tobio and the only other winged chimaera in their squad. They were always paired together in drills, their power of flight making them more matched in combat, and Tobio had always looked up to Suga.

But Suga was mischievous. His wings were that of a hawk, feathered silver in agreement with the fluffy heather of his hair, while his other aspect was fennec, presented in his pawed, downy legs, the tall, wide ears atop his head, and his fluffy, dark-tipped tail. And cunning as a fox he was, convincing Tobio to sneak out with him one night to explore the wastes.

Under cover of darkness they had flown, the very same nothingness that Tobio sees now unfolding before them. To Suga, though, there was more, his heightened sense of hearing picking up on the sound of water somewhere unseen. Tobio had followed as Suga led them towards the rocky cliffs, the range of mountainous land that the chimaera were taught always to avoid lest they fall prey to a seraph ambush. Apparently, such warnings meant nothing to Suga, and Tobio, ever enchanted by his elder, had followed.

They had found a waterfall tucked away between the ridges of raised earth, a concealed sanctuary untouched by war. They had bathed there, in the cool, fresh water, and lain to let their bodies dry in the moonlight.

Tobio cherishes the memory, both of them now no longer the naive children they once were. Despite it all, things had seemed simpler then. Almost peaceful, even. So that is where Tobio goes now. Uncertain and afraid, Tobio heads to the last corner of this land unmarred by their ceaseless war.

-x-

Seraph wings are a plume of flame, a source of light and heat that is not easily hidden. The sky is already dark now, and Shouyou knows that he stands out stark against it, a beacon to anyone who cares to look. But in all his time flying out here, he has never encountered another soul. He has no need to hide himself here.

No other seraph dare venture this far from the capital, with how little information they have on the location of the main chimaera base. And while Shouyou had been cautious the first dozen times he’d flown this route, the lack of any chimaera sightings has left him confident that he won’t be discovered.

He’d found this spot in recent months, in the time he should have been spending training but was forbidden by Daichi. He had needed to escape, needed to do anything but sit in the barracks and wait for his seemingly eternal recovery to finally come to an end. So he had flown, the fierce ache in his shoulder almost unbearable but better than the frustration he had felt staying cooped up.

Shouyou’s exploration had been largely fruitless, until, during his canvassing of the mountains, he had stumbled upon a tiny paradise, protected by crags and cliffs and only accessible by air. From what Shouyou knows, winged chimaera are fairly rare, and so he had believed his discovered land to be safe.

All prior confidence leaves Shouyou as his booted feet touch the ground. Here in Shouyou’s private oasis, in the clear, deep water of the waterfall’s mouth, is a chimaera.

Once more Shouyou wonders if this is another hallucination, because he knows those horns. He knows that glossy hair and that skin kissed by moonlight. 

The chimaera begins to turn, bare back glistening with water droplets. He had been bathing in the pool, Shouyou thinks, his pale torso rising from the water that obscures his lower body. Strange then, that under that dark blue scrutiny, Shouyou feels like he is the one who is naked, the shadowed stare freezing him in place and leaving him unguarded.

“You,” the chimaera boy breathes, voice barely carrying across the water, and Shouyou nearly buckles.

The silence unfolds between them as they stare, hypnotised, at one another. Shouyou scarcely dares breathe, terrified that any disturbance in the air will blow away the boy like smoke. When his breath does come, a _whoosh_ of an exhale, the spell is broken.

“Turn around,” the boy orders, face set hard.

“Wh-what?” Shouyou stumbles, taken entirely off-guard.

 _“Turn around._ I need to get dressed.”

Shouyou hesitates. “I don’t feel comfortable turning my back on a chimaera...” he admits, looking sheepishly at the boy.

The boy’s frown deepens, dark wings twitching in irritation. “If I wanted to kill you, I would have done so on the battlefield,” he snaps. “Now turn around.”

Unable to argue with such flawless logic, Shouyou does as instructed. He hears the _swish_ of water as the boy moves through it towards the land. As the boy dresses, Shouyou takes a moment to assess the situation. The chimaera boy is real, that much is obvious. And he is just as beautiful as Shouyou remembers, if not moreso, now that Shouyou can look at him with eyes unclouded by excruciating pain.

This boy really had saved his life months ago, and now he was _here,_ alone with Shouyou. They even recognised each other, even after all this time. It feels an awful lot like fate, that they would both come here tonight. The thought sticks with Shouyou, makes his limbs feel like lead, as though he were walking through a dream and not the reality he knows this to be.

The sound of a throat being cleared behind him prompts Shouyou to look back over his shoulder. The boy is now mostly dressed, his light, linen undershirt sticking to his still-wet skin, dark, fitted trousers stopping at the knee of his slender, down-covered legs. His inken hair hangs damp in his eyes as he frowns at Shouyou.

“How did you find me?” the boy asks, tone steady and unreadable. Shouyou can’t help but watch for a second as he straps a weapon belt around his hips, twin blades hanging at each side.

He gulps. “It was an accident. I didn’t know you’d be here,” Shouyou explains. “I didn’t know anyone else knew about this place.” He takes a step back on instinct, suddenly very aware of the danger he faces. There is no way he’ll be able to defend himself in his current state if the boy decides to attack.

As if sensing Shouyou’s rising panic, the boy unbuckles the belt and lets it drop to the ground, hands held to his sides and blatantly visible. “Clearly you’re telling the truth. I’m not going to hurt you – you don’t have to be so tense.”

Shouyou nods once, eyes never leaving the boy. There’s a pause, and he can’t help but blurt out the thought that’s been at the forefront of his mind since he landed here. “You’re real.”

The chimaera boy cocks his head, the action so birdlike that it takes Shouyou by surprise. “You didn’t think I was?”

Shaking his head quickly, Shouyou can feel his nerves settling. “I thought maybe I’d dreamed you. I was in a lot of pain,” he chuckles dryly.

The hint of a smile quirks the corner of the boy’s lips. Surely Shouyou would be forgiven for thinking such a thing; this boy is a _vision._

“I’m Shouyou,” he finds himself saying without even thinking, unconsciously taking a step closer to the boy. “Um, Hinata. Hinata Shouyou.”

“Hinata,” the boy repeats, and Shouyou’s breath catches in his throat. “Kageyama Tobio.”

The chimaera holds out his left hand – left, as if he remembers Shouyou’s injury – and Shouyou takes it, fear forgotten and breath shallow.

-x-

The seraph’s hand is hot to the touch, but pleasantly so, his grip firm if unsteady. Tobio thinks that maybe this is his non-dominant hand. How frustrating it must be, to be left back at square one by such an injury.

“How’s your shoulder?” he asks in an attempt to confirm his suspicions.

Hinata dips his head as though to hide his face, but Tobio can see a faint pink at the tip of his ears in the weak moonlight.

“It’s bad,” he answers stiffly.

Tobio tilts his head. “I’m sorry. I did what I could, but if you couldn’t get to one of your healers in time–”

“It’s not that,” Hinata cuts him off, looking back up at Tobio. The way his eyes glisten in the weak light of night makes Tobio’s heart skip minutely. “You did an amazing job. You saved my life, Kageyama. And my arm. But I can’t use it like I used to, and now I’m weak again.”

Tobio doesn’t miss the hitch in Hinata’s voice, the wobble of his mouth as he speaks, or the way his eyes seem to fill as they gaze up at him. A frown settles onto Tobio’s face.

“You still have one good arm,” he says bluntly.

Hinata blinks up at him in confusion, his face completely unguarded and annoyingly lovely. “But it _isn’t_ good. I can’t even fight with it, and they won’t even let me train anyway.”

“You can’t be good without work, Hinata,” Tobio scolds. “Who cares what they say. Here,” he says, reaching down for his blades and holding them out to Hinata. “Train with me instead.”

Maybe Tobio is crazy; after all, one less seraph with a weapon should be a boon for the chimaera. But seeing Hinata’s distress, his utter defeat, has lit something within Tobio. Something that tells him that he doesn’t need to be afraid of handing over his blades to this seraph; that maybe, one day, he can come to _trust_ this creature.

So they train. Hinata is clumsy and inelegant with Tobio’s swords, but he is persistent. Even Tobio’s harsh critique of his form and technique don’t seem to deter him, and in fact appear to spur him on. Hinata is hesitant with his right arm, and Tobio doesn’t mention it; to have any sort of control within only a handful of months after such damage is commendable. In any case, Hinata would do well to take it a little easier while he is in recovery – Tobio can see the strain in his expression, the tell-tale signs of a pain that is relentless and profound. But Tobio knows that stopping isn’t an option – he knows that _he_ wouldn’t want to stop, were he in Hinata’s position.

Hence they take things slowly, Hinata’s confidence growing with every sloppy drill, and by the time the moon is high in the sky, both of them are sweaty and spent.

“It still hurts, doesn’t it?” Tobio asks from where they lie, breathing heavily, in the sparse grass of their sanctuary. He hears Hinata shift beside him, feels the weak pulse of heat from his wings.

“Yeah,” Hinata murmurs into the cool night air. “Constantly.”

“That might never go away, you know.” Tobio turns his head slightly to watch Hinata from the corner of his eye.

A sad smile comes to rest on Hinata’s face. “I know. I can’t let it stop me, though.”

Tobio turns back to look up at the moon. The steady warmth of Hinata by his side feels so natural, so _right_ that he can’t believe they haven’t always been like this. He takes in a deep breath, inhales the crisp air and the heady scent of the enthralling seraph beside him and tries to imprint this moment into his memory.

“Will you meet me here tomorrow?” cuts Hinata’s voice through the silence.

Turning once more to look at Hinata, Tobio finds him already looking back, jasper meeting sapphire for what feels like an eternity.

“You need to rest,” Tobio rebuts, though all he wants to say is _yes please, and the night after that, too._

“I can rest in the day. Say you’ll be here? Tomorrow after dusk?”

So Tobio gives in.

“Okay.”

-x-

Shouyou feels weightless as he returns to the capital, Tobio’s promise still ringing in his ears. His spirit feels renewed, his heart light, yet full. That his beautiful chimaera boy is real, that the two of them had spent a night together as allies, friends, or _something else entirely_ – it all makes Shouyou’s head spin in the best way.

When he wakes the next morning, he still feels giddy, moving through the day with a grin fixed to his face. Even his limited training with Daichi can’t dampen his good mood, a fact that seems to both delight and unnerve Shouyou’s mentor.

“You did good today, Hinata,” Daichi says as their session comes to an end. “You seem a little more like yourself.”

“Yeah, I _feel_ more like myself,” Shouyou replies, and it’s truer than Daichi could ever understand.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Daichi grins. “Maybe in the next few weeks we can start to ramp up your training.”

“Sounds good,” Shouyou nods. Clearly he doesn’t seem enthusiastic enough, if Daichi’s furrowed brow is anything to go by.

“I thought you’d be more excited by that.”

“I am!” Shouyou rushes. “I am. Just tired, I guess.” _Oh, if you only knew the half of it._

“Okay then,” Daichi concedes, still suspicious but appeased for now. “You better go rest up. I’ll get things cleared up here. We can talk more tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I will.” As Shouyou retreats, he looks back over his shoulder. “Thanks, Daichi.”

Daichi just nods, a small smile on his face.

Shouyou wonders how Daichi would react if he knew about Kageyama. Sure, he’d be shocked, but would he be angry? Would he punish Shouyou? Would he try to _kill_ Kageyama? The Daichi that Shouyou knows would never, but Shouyou knows that behind the reliable, solid Daichi that is his friend, there is a hardened warrior that is not.

No, Shouyou must keep Kageyama a secret, and one that he must guard with his life.

For once, he does rest, not to follow Daichi’s instructions but to be at his best for when he sees Kageyama again tonight. Every time he closes his eyes, Shouyou sees the graceful lines of Kageyama’s body, the way he moved like a dancer as he had demonstrated dual sword use. Shouyou’s mind is full with the image of Kageyama’s chest, visible through the translucent veil of his damp shirt, first with water and then with sweat.

He snaps open his eyes. It was all well and good fantasising about Kageyama when he was nameless, when he was nothing but a fever dream. But now he is _real,_ and Shouyou _knows_ him, and doing so makes him feel...odd, somehow. He will never deny that Kageyama is beautiful – to do so would simply be a lie – but he is also so much _more._

Kageyama gave Shouyou his life when Shouyou had resigned himself to losing it. When Shouyou lost hope that he could ever be worth something, Kageyama gave him that, too. And Kageyama is tough and disciplined and even harsh, but he has never once looked at Shouyou with that pity that seems to follow him everywhere. He looks at him like he has _potential._

His beauty may have fascinated Shouyou all of those months ago on that scorched battlefield, but it was Kageyama’s heart that captivated him as he had refused to let Shouyou die. And now, Shouyou finds himself even more enchanted by Kageyama’s determination and tenacity, his straight-to-the-point way of approaching things, and the way he treats Shouyou as his equal despite the clear discrepancy in their skill levels.

As Shouyou drifts in and out of sleep, a single thought floats to the surface of his barely conscious mind, unremarkable but persistent. All Shouyou wants, more than anything he thinks he has ever wanted, is to know more about Kageyama Tobio.

-x-

When Tobio returns to the caves of his city, he feels as if he is moving through a dream. To stand so close to an open flame and come away intact? He feels invincible, absolutely untouchable. That is, until he finds Suga still awake when he slips into their shared quarters.

“And just where have you been?” Suga asks casually from where he lies on his bed, eyeing Tobio over his open book.

Tobio blinks owlishly, mind suddenly empty as Suga calmly stares him down. “I...Well, I...Um–”

“Yeah, okay, I don’t actually care, Tobio,” Suga interrupts, laughing. “I was just messing with you.”

“Oh. Um, good one.” Tobio’s voice is forced, much like the awkward smile he flashes at Suga before making a beeline for his bed.

“Well, I _didn’t_ care,” Suga says, voice smooth and lilting in the way that Tobio knows means trouble. “But after _that,_ well, now I’m rather curious.” Suga closes his book and sits up cross-legged, grinning menacingly at Tobio. “So where _have_ you been, Tobio?”

_Oh, shit._

It’s not that Tobio doesn’t trust Suga; they’ve known each other since adolescence, and have had each other’s back on countless occasions. But this secret is _big._ If anyone were to find out what Tobio had done, tonight and all those months ago on that ashen wasteland, his life would never be the same. And unfortunately, that ‘anyone’ includes Suga.

Suga’s pale, pointed ears twitch in anticipation, as if he’s listening to Tobio’s very thoughts. It’s unnerving, but Tobio is determined to hold his ground.

“I had guard duty.”

“Hmm, _noooo_ you didn’t. I was at the post earlier, seeing as Tanaka was on guard tonight, and you were nowhere to be seen.” Suga’s response is quick and iron-clad, delivered in a cheery tone that belies his cutting veracity. Tobio winces. “Try again.”

“I went flying without clearance and didn’t want to get found out.”

“That sounds closer to the truth,” Suga considers, tapping his finger pensively against his chin, “but I get the feeling you’re leaving out something important.”

Tobio sighs in frustration. Suga is entirely too perceptive for his own good. At this rate he’s going to end up dragging the truth from Tobio and dooming them both.

“There’s nothing more to it, Suga. Can I go to sleep now?”

“Oh, are you worn out?” Suga asks somewhat smugly. “Interesting.” Tobio grits his teeth. “Fine, go to sleep. But I will get to the bottom of this, Tobio!”

As they extinguish the lanterns and prepare for sleep, Tobio’s mind is buzzing. If he’s going to somehow keep seeing Hinata, he’s going to need to throw Suga off the scent somehow. As if committing what must be treason isn’t already difficult enough.

-x-

They meet the next night, and every night that follows, training and swimming and talking. Shouyou is positive that he has never met anyone like Kageyama. Maybe there _is_ no one like Kageyama, or at least, Shouyou has never felt this way about anyone _but_ Kageyama.

It doesn’t take long for Shouyou to realise he is in love with Kageyama. How could he not be? Before they met, before that fated battle that nearly took his life and his meeting with the chimaera that gave it back, Shouyou’s life was dark. He was an expendable pawn in an eternal war, just one in an endless line of soldiers whose only duty was to die for his emperor.

With a single action, Kageyama had changed that, and has continued to change it with every meeting. By Kageyama’s side, Shouyou feels like _someone._ He _matters._ He isn’t one of the faceless masses, but someone whose life has value. Kageyama constantly reminds him, not with words, but with actions.

In every precise adjustment of Shouyou’s stance, every gentle inspection of his injured shoulder, every proud smirk as Shouyou perfects a technique; in these moments, Kageyama shows that he cares.

So how could Shouyou not fall in love? Since that very first glance, that very first touch, Shouyou never had a chance. It may be too much to hope that Kageyama might feel the same, but he hopes nonetheless.

-x-

Being with Hinata is so effortless that sometimes it scares Tobio. Surely he should have better self-preservation instincts than to let himself so quickly drop his guard around a seraph. But Hinata isn’t just a seraph. Hinata is... _more._ The more time Tobio spends with him, the deeper he finds himself falling for Hinata, whose fire is not destructive but nourishing, preserving.

The rate of Hinata’s improvement is incredible, his perseverance and grit paying off in spades. Soon, the two of them are sparring in earnest, Tobio forced to stop holding back and use his full power. He can’t help but marvel at the fact that Hinata has come so far in just a matter of weeks.

Panting, they face each other at the waterside, both gripping a blade in each hand. Sweat drips from Hinata’s brow as he assesses Tobio, his opponent, earthen eyes almost black in the dim light, intense and challenging. Tobio smirks back, inhaling deeply before leaping.

Aerial combat is a delicate balance of push and pull, denied the stability of the earth and working to use that to your advantage. The sheer power of Hinata’s wings is overwhelming; if he gets a hold of Tobio in midair, Hinata will easily overpower him. But Tobio is quick, and well used to avoidance techniques and targeted strikes.

Hinata is agile too, though, and has become accustomed to Tobio’s style of combat. He dips and dives after Tobio, giving him not even a breath of space to dodge. It’s as if both have forgotten about their weapons, this duel quickly devolving into a game of cat and mouse. Tobio never thought that he would be the mouse.

Unrelenting, Hinata pursues him, the two rising almost above the peaks of the mountains that shelter their haven. Suddenly Hinata is above him, and Tobio has no time to react before Hinata’s hands are on his shoulders and he’s plummeting them both towards the water.

“Hinata!” Tobio yells as they dive, but Hinata only grins in response.

And then Tobio’s back hits the water, Hinata hitting his chest on impact. Underwater, Tobio blinks himself out of his confusion in time to kick towards the surface. As he gasps for air, Hinata is already waiting for him, grin wide and mischievous.

“I win this one, Kageyama,” he ribs.

“Hinata, you moron!” Kageyama barks back, splashing water in Hinata’s face. “Where the hell did our swords go?!”

“Forget about the swords for a minute,” Hinata smiles, reaching out to take Tobio’s hands and pull him closer. “Kageyama.”

That single word is uttered like a prayer, like the final plea of a dying man, and Tobio’s heart is in his throat, thumping so furiously that his ears ring. The water is warm from the heat of Hinata’s wings, Hinata’s hands hot around his. Deep brown eyes bore into his own, trapping him in their intensity, and Tobio isn’t sure which way is up. Hinata’s knee brushes against his thigh beneath the water, sending a shiver up Tobio’s spine.

“Kageyama,” Shouyou repeats.

“Hinata,” Tobio whispers in response, voice hoarse and throat dry.

“Tobio,” Hinata murmurs before closing the space between them.

Like the rest of him, Hinata’s lips are warm, so warm and soft and _good._ Hinata releases Tobio’s hands to reach up and cup his face, holding them together against the weak sway of the water. The heat of his skin against Tobio’s jaw is delicious, _addictive,_ and Tobio reaches beneath the water to grip Hinata’s hips and hold him close. Hinata gasps into the kiss.

Spurred on, Tobio deepens the kiss. Hinata’s hands trace down Tobio’s skin to clasp behind his neck. As they grasp at each other, desperate to somehow be _closer,_ Tobio thinks of nothing but how perfectly their bodies slot together, as if each were made to be held in the other’s arms.

Hinata is the first to pull away, a puffed exhale ghosting over Tobio’s face as he rests their foreheads together. Hinata’s eyes are closed as he takes measured breaths. Eyes wide, Tobio watches, counts each individual eyelash and admires the shadows that they cast on Hinata’s tawny skin. There are freckles – so faint that Tobio would never see them were he not so close – and Tobio brings his hand up to brush them lightly with his thumb.

“I’m in love with you, Tobio,” Hinata breathes into the inches of space between them. His thumb is rubbing steadily at the nape of Tobio’s neck, sending jolts of electricity through him with every caress. “You don’t have to say anything back. I just–” He huffs, scrunching his eyes even more tightly shut. “None of this is fair.”

“Hinata, I–” Tobio starts, but Hinata pulls back to look at him, eyes bright and watery, and Tobio’s words die in his throat.

“I want to be with you, Tobio. I want to see you in the sunlight.” His eyes never leave Tobio’s. “These nights, here, with you – they’re _everything._ But they’re not enough.” He inhales, breath hitching and trembling as he brings his forehead back to Tobio’s, eyes falling closed once more. “I want more, Tobio. Do you?”

Tobio feels like he’s choking, all air gone from his lungs. _Yes_ he wants more. He wants a life with Hinata, one without war and borders and underground cities. He wants the sun and the sky and this boy formed from fire. He wants it all, so desperately and ardently that he can’t _breathe._

Through strangled sobs, he speaks. “I want more, Hinata.”

As their lips crash together once more, Tobio feels a shift in the universe. This is a vow, hallowed under moonlight, made in the whispered words of forbidden lovers. It is an oath, that they will move heaven and earth to be together. That, for love, they will change the world.


	2. Part 2

Where his journeys to see Kageyama used to have Shouyou tense with excitement, the tightness he feels in his gut now is bordering on unbearable. Because sparring with Kageyama is exhilarating, but making love to him is _overwhelming,_ dazzling and intoxicating in a way that Shouyou _craves._ And to be able to do _both?_ Well, Shouyou has often considered himself lucky, but recently he can’t help but believe himself truly blessed.

Kageyama is already waiting when Shouyou’s feet touch down, their eyes meeting in the faint moonlight. There’s a glint in Kageyama’s eyes that makes Shouyou’s breath quicken, and he rushes to Kageyama, desperate to touch him. But Kageyama holds out a hand, pressing it to the centre of Shouyou’s chest and stopping him in his tracks.

“Not yet,” Kageyama smirks. The expression makes Shouyou weak at the knees.

He can’t help but whine, wanting nothing more than to kiss Kageyama, his hand still spread against Shouyou’s chest, the touch so electric that it could leave behind a scorched print.

Kageyama cocks his head, still grinning wickedly at Shouyou. “Draw your swords, seraph.”

A matching grin spreads across Shouyou’s face. Taking a step back, he reaches back over his shoulders to draw his blades, the action causing his right shoulder to burn with pain. It’s okay, though. Sparring with Kageyama is always worth the ache.

“Don’t expect me to go easy on you, beast,” Shouyou taunts.

Kageyama responds by lunging, almost catching Shouyou off-guard. Almost. Shouyou raises his sword just in time, the song of steel ringing through the still night air. Shouyou feels so alive, alight with adrenaline, heartbeat thumping erratically with every swing of his swords.

This is them. This is the two of them at their best, as opposing as night and day. A chimaera and a seraph in their natural habitat, blades held to each other’s throats. But there is love, the trust that no blood will be spilled evident in the eyes of both lovers. And there is heat, the air charged with the heavy energy that radiates from them both. There is _want._

“Are you even trying?” Kageyama shouts above the screech of their swords colliding, exertion evident in his short breaths and sweat-damp skin, but tone still playful, grin still challenging.

Shouyou charges, puts his whole body behind his blow, trapping both of their blades between their chests. At this close distance, Shouyou can feel Kageyama’s warm breath panting across his face, the subtle heat that burns from his flushed skin, the slight tremble of his worn muscles. He holds Kageyama’s gaze as he pushes himself closer, propelling himself forward with his wings. A grit of his teeth, and Kageyama spins, feet dancer-light, out of Shouyou’s path, and Shouyou stumbles forward.

Kageyama takes advantage of his lack of balance and brings his sword down to the back of Shouyou’s neck, the cold metal pressed firmly against tan skin.

He leans in close to Shouyou’s ear. “I win this time,” he murmurs, voice low and rumbling.

Shouyou’s heart stutters, breath coming out in gasps. Unwilling to admit defeat, he grips the back of Kageyama’s furred knee, staggering him until they’re both at eye level.

“I wouldn’t be so sure, Tobio.” He matches Kageyama’s sultry tone, the fight clearly at its end and ready to make way for their next ritual.

“Shut up, idiot,” Kageyama manages to mumble before Shouyou is kissing him, weapons dropped and forgotten on the ground.

They kiss as if they’re running out of air, running out of time and hoping to find more within one another. Shouyou threads his fingers through Kageyama’s dark hair, pulling at the smooth strands at the crown of his head. Groaning into the kiss, Kageyama presses himself closer to Shouyou.

It’s not always like this, not always so desperate; sometimes they kiss so sweetly, hold each other so tenderly. But sometimes they are frantic, needing one another so badly that they barely breathe.

Kageyama pushes Shouyou to the ground, crushing the lush grass beneath his broad wings. Time seems to slow down as he climbs over Shouyou, the moonlight a halo around his horned head. Shouyou thinks it’s pretty crazy that his people call the chimaera ‘demons’, when Kageyama looks like an angel above him right now.

He reaches up to cup Kageyama’s cheek in his palm, the sudden squeeze in his heart demanding that he verify the reality of his presence. Kageyama turns minutely to brush his lips against Shouyou’s wrist.

“Shouyou,” he breathes, and Shouyou wants to cry.

“I’m here, Tobio,” he says instead, sliding his hand behind Kageyama’s neck to pull him down into an achingly sweet kiss.

Kageyama sighs into it, melts against Shouyou, and Shouyou makes a silent promise that he will give everything he can to ensure Kageyama’s happiness. His resolve is set, that whatever it takes, they will have their happy ending.

-x-

“Are you ever gonna tell me where you run off to every night or am gonna have to follow you?”

The times when Suga is awake to catch him returning are the worst for Tobio. Cloven hooves don’t make for a silent approach, and on a few occasions Tobio has woken Suga and lined himself up for a barrage of questions. But tonight, Suga is prepared, sitting in wait, his calm and patient appearance contradicting Tobio’s feeling of being cornered.

“I already told you–”

“No, Tobio,” Suga interrupts. “You told me a lie, and I let you because you never lie about anything. And I thought maybe you’d trust me enough to tell me the truth at some point, but it’s been months now and I’m done waiting. So, Tobio,” he challenges, hazel eyes hard and unrelenting, “are you going to tell me?”

Tobio feels trapped, a caged animal being prodded through the bars. With everything else, Tobio trusts Suga; Suga has never once let him down. But this is different. This isn’t about just Tobio. This secret is _everything,_ and Tobio isn’t sure he’s ready to trust _anyone_ with that, but it looks like he no longer has a choice.

“Sugawara,” he says, voice a plea as he takes a single step forward. “You’re asking me to trust you, and I’m willing. But if I do, you need to promise me that you won’t break that trust.”

Eyes wide, Suga blinks a couple times, as if he had never expected Tobio to _actually_ give in. “Of course I promise,” he says once he’s regained his composure, leaning towards Tobio in anticipation. “Tell me.”

Deep breaths. Heart pounding. The room feels suffocating, the cavern walls squeezing the air from the limited space. This is it. This is _it._

“Do you remember the waterfall in the mountains? The one that we found years ago?”

Suga’s brow creases. This isn’t what he’d expected. “Yeah, I remember it.”

“Okay,” Tobio nods, and with one last inhale to solidify his resolve, he tells Suga everything.

-x-

To end a war, one must have allies. They’ve spoken about this, he and Kageyama, as they’d lain in each other’s arms on the bare grass of their sanctuary, whispering through their exhaustion in an attempt to stretch their time together.

While Shouyou’s list of friends is long, he knows that now is not the time to place unwavering trust in just anybody. He must be cautious if he is to protect Kageyama and have even the sliver of a chance that they can bring peace to this land.

Over half a year has passed since that fateful day on that ashen battlefield, and Shouyou’s training under Daichi has mostly returned to its normal intensity. On multiple occasions Daichi has commented on Shouyou’s miraculous recovery and the just as miraculous increase in his skill with his weapons, the sense of fierce pride in himself and his teacher shooting through Shouyou like a drug through his bloodstream.

It’s just the two of them in this session, Tsukishima occupied with his position in the Imperial Guard, so for the first time in a long time, Shouyou gets to spar against his mentor.

Daichi as a fighter is much like Daichi as a person; consistent, decisive, steadfast. Daichi does not panic in the face of a fight, but remains level headed in a way that allows him to consider the best possible strategy. This is unlike Shouyou, who relies heavily on instinct, adrenaline, and in-the-moment decisions. Shouyou considers all of this as he stands across from Daichi, weapons drawn, the yellow dirt of their arena unsettled by the breeze.

“Ready!” Daichi calls across the space. Shouyou tightens his grip around his sword hilts. “And fight!”

As they advance, Shouyou finds himself observing Daichi, analysing his every move. He is rational, Shouyou thinks. Someone who assesses a situation before reacting. Someone who, perhaps, would hear Shouyou out before jumping to conclusions about Kageyama.

And Daichi is well-respected. He has influence. If Shouyou could get Daichi on board, their hopes to end the war would no longer feel like some far off dream but an actual, attainable option. Yes, caution is necessary to keep his love safe, but how are they to change the world without taking risks?

So Shouyou makes a decision. He fights back, and hard. He’s going to prove his strength to Daichi, prove that his power can be trusted, and then he is going to tell Daichi everything.

Daichi seems to sense Shouyou’s determination, eyes narrowing as he battles to keep his ground. But Shouyou is unrelenting, armed with skills that no seraph had wielded in the last few centuries _at least,_ and he can see Daichi’s stamina waning.

As Shouyou forces Daichi into submission, Shouyou can see the look in Daichi’s eyes; the surprise at having been bested by his pupil, the curiosity of how this could have happened. The knowing Shouyou will never stop, will always seek to become stronger.

Dropping his swords, Shouyou offers his hand to Daichi, and Daichi takes it.

“I have something I need to talk to you about. Is there somewhere we can discuss it in private?” Shouyou asks as they restack their weapons.

Turning to him, Daichi nods.

No turning back now.

-x-

“Suga wants to meet you,” Tobio says as he rubs balm into Hinata’s shoulder. He feels Hinata flinch under his fingers. “Did that hurt?”

“No. No.” He looks sheepishly over his shoulder at Tobio. “You think it’s a good idea?”

Tobio nods once, straight faced. “I trust him. I think you should bring Daichi, too. And what about that other one – Tsukishima?”

Hinata’s face scrunches up as if he’s just been force-fed a lemon. “I really don’t think we should bring Tsukishima into this. I don’t care what Daichi says, that guy’s an asshole.”

Tobio’s sigh is equal parts amusement and frustration. “He’d be really valuable. He’s close to the emperor’s son – we can’t ignore that kind of opportunity.”

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you’d met him,” Hinata replies petulantly.

With another sigh, Tobio continues to work the balm into Hinata’s scarred skin. “We can’t do this alone, Hinata.”

“I _knoooow,”_ Hinata whines, putting his hand over Tobio’s on his shoulder, stilling Tobio’s movements. “It’s just...” He sighs, gathering his thoughts. “This place is _ours._ I’m just nervous about bringing anyone else here.”

“I’m nervous too,” Tobio admits, voice barely above a whisper. “But, I believe in us. I believe that together, we’re invincible.”

“Invincible,” Hinata repeats, smiling soft and sweet and just for Tobio.

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” Tobio replies, the corners of his mouth curling into a small smile of his own as he resumes his gentle kneading of Hinata’s shoulder.

-x-

As much as Shouyou hates to admit it, Kageyama is right. And so is Daichi; if they want the best chance at ending this war, he’ll need to get Tsukishima on side. The thought plasters a deep frown to Shouyou’s face. Really, of _all the people,_ it just _had_ to be Tsukishima who happened to be the prince’s personal guard, the _only person_ who has any sort of private access to this world’s only hope for peace.

“Can’t you speak to him?” Shouyou asks, huffy and pleading.

Daichi chuckles. “It means more coming from you, Hinata.” He looks into Shouyou’s eyes, words earnest. “The way you spoke, you made it all seem possible. It has to be you.”

Shouyou groans. Daichi is right, because of course he is – Daichi is _always_ right. “He doesn’t even like me,” Shouyou protests in a last-ditch effort to get out of talking to Tsukishima. “What makes you think he’d listen to me?”

Shaking his head, Daichi smiles. “You underestimate him. I think he wants things to change just as much as you do.”

“Hah, I doubt it. He lives an easy life in the palace. He’s never even seen a real battle, what difference does it make to him if there’s a war or not?”

Smile disappearing, Daichi’s brow furrows. “The war touches every part of this land, Hinata. There’s a lot you don’t know about Tsukishima.” He sighs. “Just talk to him. Please.”

A lot Shouyou doesn’t know...Well, if it gets Tsukishima on side, Shouyou won’t complain.

“Fine. I will.”

It’s much easier said than done. As a member of the Imperial Guard, Tsukishima is rarely free to do anything other than train. It takes almost a week for Shouyou to finally corner Tsukishima, at the end of their usual sparring session with Daichi. Daichi excuses himself, no doubt to give them some privacy while also keeping watch for anyone who might overhear.

“Tsukishima,” Shouyou starts, hesitant, “can we talk?”

“Actually, I’d rather we didn’t,” Tsukishima snarks back, and Shouyou bristles.

“Tsukishima, this is important. Would you just listen?”

Interest piqued by Shouyou’s serious tone, Tsukishima levels him with an unreadable look. “Okay then. I’m listening.”

Oh. Shouyou hadn’t expected to get this far. He thinks quickly, trying to gather his thoughts and throw them into words. “Aren’t you sick of this?”

“Speaking to you? Extremely.”

“Can you stop being an asshole for just a second?” Shouyou snaps, and Tsukishima’s eyes narrow but he stays silent. “I mean _war._ Don’t you want _more?_ Peace? _Freedom?”_

“Of course I do,” Tsukishima replies, expression still unchanged, “but I’m not in the habit of pining after the impossible.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you, Tsukishima! It’s not impossible!” Shouyou all but yells, already at his wit's end with Tsukishima’s sarcasm.

If it weren’t for both Daichi _and_ Kageyama pushing him to do this, Shouyou would have definitely given up by now. But he can’t. He has to do this. For Kageyama. For their future.

“And if you meet me at sunset, I can show you.”

-x-

“I haven’t been here in _years,_ Tobio,” Suga gushes as they land beside the waterfall. “It’s just as beautiful as I remember,” he grins.

But Tobio barely hears him with the way his heart is hammering. They’re the first ones here. Part of him is glad; it gives them a little time to prepare themselves, gives Tobio a second to settle his racing heart. But there is also the part that fears the unknown. He and Hinata had planned to finally introduce their allies tonight, and while the numbers of both sides are sparse, there is still the opportunity for disaster in uniting the two sides. Especially if Hinata _had_ managed to talk this Tsukishima into coming tonight.

Because while Tobio trusts Hinata with his entire being, the thought of him and Suga being outnumbered by seraphs here has him on edge, even if those seraphs _are_ allies of Hinata’s. Will that really make them _Tobio’s_ allies?

He faintly registers Suga’s voice in the background but the words meld together, one long, lilting sentence that makes no sense to Tobio’s frantic mind. Would Hinata even show up? What if he’d been caught, his plans exposed, and their location revealed? As perceptive as ever, Suga places his hand on Tobio’s shoulder.

“Breathe, Tobio.”

All of Tobio’s worries spill out of him as soon as he opens his mouth. “What if this is a bad idea, Suga?” he blurts. “What if they find him out? We might be in danger here, maybe we should leave–”

“Tobio!” Suga’s voice stops Tobio in his tracks. “He’ll be here.”

As if on cue, the sound of wide, feathered wings beating the still night air begins, getting louder as the three shadowed figures come closer. Tobio’s heart stills. The other two are larger than Hinata; if they were to attack, would Tobio and Suga be able to hold their ground?

Three pairs of feet touch the ground, and Tobio stays perfectly still. He can’t make any sudden movements, lest the seraphim before him take it as a threat. Suga follows his lead, both of them motionless, their hands in plain view.

“Tobio!” Hinata calls, grin wide, and Tobio feels a sliver of tension leave his body. _He’s okay._

Before Tobio has a chance to respond, the tall, blond seraph speaks.

“Hinata, explain,” he says, tone even but firm as he places a hand on the hilt of his sword. “Right now.” His eyes never leave Tobio.

Hinata leaps forward, placing himself between Tobio and the seraphim. As Tobio looks at his back, he softens completely. The trust that Hinata has in him that he would turn his back on an unknown chimaera – Tobio knows that they’re doing the right thing, knows that all of this is worth it.

“They’re on our side, Tsukishima,” Hinata says in an attempt to placate the seraph. “Please calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down, you ingrate,” Tsukishima spits. “You brought us into a trap? An ambush?”

The dark haired seraph steps forward, joins Hinata before the blond.

“Tsukishima, these are our allies. If Hinata trusts them, then I do too,” he says, turning to offer a short nod to Hinata.

Tobio’s heart swells once more. Even with Tsukishima’s animosity, their dream feels closer, like this mismatched group of angels and demons could really change the course of history.

The dark haired seraph – who Tobio assumes to be Daichi – manages to talk Tsukishima down enough that they can stop worrying about a fight breaking out. There remains a clear tension, an obvious divide between the two groups, but Tobio no longer feels so wired.

Hinata takes the lead, standing in the middle of them, and Tobio feels breathless with pride.

“Everyone here tonight is here because we want change. We’re all on the same side.” He turns to address Tsukishima directly. “You’re free to leave if you want, but please don’t try to stop us. We just want peace, Tsukishima.”

Tsukishima’s face betrays no emotion as he stares back. “And just how are the five of us supposed to bring about this peace?” There’s a bite to his voice, but Tobio thinks that the question may be genuine. Perhaps even Tsukishima has an ounce of hope.

Hinata looks to Tobio, eyes alight. Tobio nods. It’s time that they hear about the plan.

-x-

“We’re going to kill the emperor,” Shouyou hears himself say. A silence settles over the oasis, heavy and oppressive as everyone considers what he just said. Tsukishima, of course, is the first to break it.

“Oh, we are, are we? And I suppose we’re just going to walk into the palace and do that then?”

Before Shouyou has a chance to speak, Tobio steps forward. “You have access to the emperor, don’t you?” he asks Tsukishima, who looks taken aback to have been spoken to by a chimaera.

“Woah, back up a bit there, Tobio,” the fox-eared chimaera says, placing a hand on Kageyama’s shoulder. “The emperor is gonna be surrounded by guards. You really think this one guy can get through all of them to the emperor in one piece? And even if he _does_ manage it, what then? You think they’ll let him out of there alive?”

Kageyama seems to deflate, and Shouyou can feel the dream slipping through his fingers.

“The rabbit is right,” Daichi declares, his booming voice pulling everyone’s attention. He looks every bit a leader. “This is too much of a risk. And we can’t put such a burden on Tsukishima.”

“Excuse me?” the chimaera that Shouyou assumes is Suga pipes up from beside Kageyama. _“Rabbit?”_ He sounds incredulous.

Even Tsukishima seems to snicker as Daichi just blinks owlishly at the chimaera. “I’m sorry, was that offensive?” There’s the hint of a flush across his cheeks. “Obviously I don’t speak to many chimaera, I didn’t mean to be rude...” he trails off, rubbing the back of his neck.

Suga seems unaffected by Daichi’s bashful apology, hands bunched in angry fists at his sides. “Well, you _were_ rude,” he snaps. “And clearly stupid if you can’t tell that my aspect is _fox.”_

“Look, I said I was sorry,” Daichi responds, brow creasing into a frown. “Frankly, I could’ve called you a lot worse,” he mumbles to himself, but the twitch of Suga’s tall ears makes it clear that he heard.

Before hell can break loose, Shouyou puts his arms out in a pacifying gesture to them both. “Woah, guys! We’re all friends here,” he says as they scowl past him at each other. “If you don’t like our plan, what do you suggest instead?”

No one speaks for a few long moments, and Shouyou is about to give up the last of his hope when, of all people, Tsukishima clears his throat.

“Tada– Um, _his highness_ and I have spoken before. About what w– _he_ would do as emperor. About if he could finally end the war. I know that he wants to, so I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make that happen. If the assassination plan is the only one we have, we’ll just have to make it work.”

“But...” Suga steps forward. “That’s his _father._ Would he really be willing to–”

“That man has been no father to Tadashi,” Tsukishima interrupts, and there is a venom behind his words that stuns Shouyou. Tsukishima clears his throat, regaining composure. “His highness won’t like the idea of bloodshed, but for peace...let me speak to him.”

And Shouyou feels it, just there within his reach. It’s faint, like trying to catch rising smoke in your hands, but it’s there. _Hope._

-x-

“Do you really think it’ll work?” Tobio asks absently, twirling a lock of Hinata’s fire-bright hair around his pale fingers.

“Mmm?” is Hinata’s sleepy response from where he is nestled against Tobio’s chest, eyes heavy with the late hour.

“It’s not much of a plan,” Tobio responds, not really answering the question. Hinata doesn’t seem to notice, humming out another vague reply. “And we don’t even know if your prince will agree,” Tobio continues regardless. “But I really want it to work.”

“Me too,” Hinata mumbles, sitting up a bit to look at Tobio through hooded eyes. “I think it will. Gotta have faith, Tobio.” Even half-asleep, Hinata’s grin is breath-taking, blinding like the summer sun cresting the peaks of their mountains.

Tobio smirks back, squeezing Hinata against him. “Faith, huh?”

“Mhm,” Hinata nods. “We’re invincible, remember? Don’t tell me you forgot,” he teases, dipping his head to nuzzle against Tobio’s jaw, warm lips brushing sensitive skin. A shiver travels down Tobio’s spine.

Hinata seems to notice the reaction, suddenly more awake as he props himself up to look down at Tobio. “You believe me, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Tobio breathes, eyes scrunching closed. How could he not? Hinata had overcome so much, had flown so high. He can do _anything._

“Mmm, good,” Hinata grins, dropping to bury his face in the crook of Tobio’s neck to press slow, open-mouthed kisses to the skin there.

A hitch in Tobio’s breath, and he feels Hinata smile against his skin.

“I’m gonna build you a house,” Hinata murmurs. “Right here, in the mountains. Just for us.”

Tobio huffs out a laugh. “Here? No one will ever find us.”

When Hinata pulls back, his grin is wolfish and hungry. “Exactly.”

Tobio doesn’t think he will ever get tired of kissing Hinata, every touch charged with heat and want. He’ll never get tired of the way Hinata worships his body with his mouth against Tobio’s skin. Of the feeling of Hinata pressed against him, with no idea where one body ends and another begins, all fire and need.

The sun is threatening to rise by the time they finish, the sky a swirl of deep indigos and dark fuschias. Hinata snores softly against Tobio’s chest as Tobio’s fingers ghost across his bare back. Tobio knows they need to leave soon, that they’re cutting things way too fine, but he’s loath to end this moment.

 _A house, right here, where no one will find them._ It sounds too good to be true. Maybe it is, but when has that ever stopped them from dreaming?


	3. Part 3

To the eyes of most, Tadashi is privileged. And he would never deny this; _of course_ he is privileged. While war rages on, he has known nothing but comfort, nothing but luxury and protection. Never has he seen a battlefield, nor has he ever had need to learn to wield a weapon. Never in his life has he been subject to the horror and bloodshed that many have, and it is all thanks to his privilege as a member of the royal family. Tadashi knows this, and will never, _ever_ contest the reality of it.

At least, not out loud.

In his head, he’s free to lament his loneliness, the feeling of being unwanted and unloved by the one member of his family that he has left. To detest his father for his neglect and cruelty, for his warmongering and his viciousness. No one can tut and call Tadashi ungrateful, because no one can see the way he sobs into his pillow at night. No one can even get close enough, as isolated as Tadashi always is.

No one but Tsukishima.

And Tadashi doesn’t have to say anything, doesn’t have to risk appearing petty or selfish in his complaints, because Tsukishima _sees._ Tsukishima _knows._ If there is no one else in this world who knows Tadashi, who sees past the facade to the terrified boy beneath, at least Tsukishima does. And Tsukishima doesn’t judge him for it, would never begrudge Tadashi his sorrow.

As always, Tsukishima would instead offer Tadashi silent comfort – he’s no good with words, they always seem to come out wrong, too harsh and cutting. But when he wraps Tadashi in his arms, when he cards his calloused hands through Tadashi’s dark hair, a sense of peace envelops them both. Tsukishima has always been there for Tadashi, and Tadashi would do anything for Tsukishima.

The emperor knows this, of course. He knows that Tadashi will behave, because if he doesn’t, who knows what his father would do to Tsukishima. So Tadashi puts on a brave face, does as he is told and never acts out.

He’s good, so that Tsukishima can stay by his side. So that when night falls, and the palace sleeps, Tsukishima can slip into Tadashi’s room and hold him as he cries. And sometimes, it almost feels like enough. But Tadashi can’t help but feel that there has to be a better way to live. Surely, there _must_ be a better way to live.

-x-

“Have you spoken to him yet?” Shouyou asks, breath short as they run drills.

“I don’t think we should be talking about this here,” is Tsukishima’s predictable response.

“No one even knows what we’re talking about! It’s just ‘yes’ or ‘no’, Tsukishima.”

“It’s not that simple,” Tsukishima replies through gritted teeth.

“It is,” Hinata grunts out, dropping his swords. “We need to know if he’s in or if we need to think of a new plan.”

Panting, Tsukishima follows suit, letting his weapon fall to the ground. “I haven’t spoken to him about it. It’s...a hard topic to raise.”

“I know.” And it’s true; Shouyou knows that this must be difficult for Tsukishima, to drag someone he cares about into this fool’s errand. But he also knows that it is worth it. “Do you love him?”

Shouyou sees Tsukishima’s body tense, shoulders heaving as he continues to catch his breath. They’ve never been close – Shouyou didn’t think _anyone_ was close to Tsukishima, at least not before. But if they’re going to commit treason together, Shouyou thinks it only sensible to try to get to know him a little better. Tsukishima had already surprised him by agreeing to join them and try to execute this plan; Shouyou thinks that there is probably a lot more about Tsukishima that could surprise him.

“Yes,” Tsukishima says, instantly proving Shouyou right.

“Wow...does he know?”

“Yes.”

Shouyou just nods, the unexpected feeling of solidarity settling in his chest. So they’re both doing this for love. The thought settles Shouyou; he knows better than anyone the lengths that one will go to for love. He knows that he can trust Tsukishima to play his part.

-x-

Kei thinks a lot about what Hinata asked him. _Does he know?_ An innocent enough question, Kei supposes, and with what should be a simple enough answer. And Kei thinks he answered honestly; _of course_ Tadashi knows. Even if Kei never _says_ it, Tadashi must know...right?

But then, does Tadashi love Kei? He says it, in the dead of night as he floats on the edges of sleep or as he clings to Kei in fits of tears. But it just isn’t that simple. Nothing ever is, Kei admits, not for them. It could be, though. If Tadashi agrees to Hinata’s plan, maybe things could be.

As things are, Kei stands with his back to Tadashi’s chamber door, as he does every night, his armour polished and his sword practically decorative. He pushes his glasses up his nose absently – sure, such equipment doesn’t usually make for the best warrior, but Kei has practiced long and hard to compensate for his downfalls in other ways. He is fully confident in his ability to protect Tadashi, should the need arise. In all his years as Tadashi’s personal guard, however, it never has. The position often feels like more of a formality than anything, but Kei would never raise such a point; his title of Imperial Guard allows him to stay at Tadashi’s side, an opportunity that he would never jeopardise.

Darkness falls outside the palace, movement within its walls gradually slowing to a stop. But he can’t go inside just yet. Even if he can hear the faint sound of Tadashi’s whimpers on the other side of the door. He can’t go yet.

An hour passes, and then another, until finally the palace retires, and Kei can quietly open the door and slip inside.

It is not unusual to find Tadashi already asleep as Kei locks the door behind him. As quietly as he can, Kei strips his armour – he finds it far too heavy anyway, and thinks that he could fight better without it, should he ever need to.

The soft clink of the steel plates stirs Tadashi, his sleepy mumbling unintelligible as Kei slides onto the bed behind him, their bodies slotting together like pieces of a well-used puzzle.

“Shh,” Kei whispers as he runs his fingers through Tadashi’s sleep-mussed hair. Kei likes it this length; usually the shoulder-length locks are held back by ornate clasps and jewels, but Kei likes it best when it falls loose like this against Tadashi’s pillows.

“Tsukki,” Tadashi mumbles, turning so that he can press his face to Kei’s chest. Tadashi is always clingy when he’s sleepy. Kei loves it, loves to lie awake and watchful as Tadashi grips him in the night. _He must know that I love him._

“Go back to sleep, Tadashi,” he murmurs, though the steadying of Tadashi’s breaths tell Kei that he probably already is.

He wakes again only a few hours later, slow and languid, sighing and stretching against Kei.

“Tsukki,” he says again, voice raspy from sleep but more conscious than before.

“Good morning, princess.”

Tadashi grins, wide and bright and slightly crooked; Kei’s favourite sight in the whole world. “Hmm, funny,” he snarks.

Kei smiles back, the soft, genuine smile that only Tadashi ever gets to see. It soon falls as Kei prepares himself for the coming conversation. “Are you ready to get up? There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

Wide eyes blinking in surprise, Tadashi nods, releasing Kei to sit up and stretch his arms above his head. Kei sits up too, turning to face Tadashi and crossing his legs as he waits patiently for Tadashi to fully shake the lingering remnants of sleep. Kei stares as Tadashi rubs his eyes with his fists, arching his back to loosen his muscles. When Tadashi notices, he smiles at Kei curiously.

“Tsukki, quit staring. You’re making me nervous.”

“Sorry, your highness,” Kei retorts, earning him an eye-roll.

“Okay,” Tadashi finally says, eyes now bright and alert. “What did you wanna talk about?”

Kei takes a deep breath, closing his eyes to center himself. “Remember the other night, when I wasn’t here and had to ask Azumane to guard you instead?”

“Yes, Tsukki.” Tadashi frowns. “I was waiting for you to tell me why you couldn’t be here. I mean, I get that you might have a life outside of me, that’s not what I mean. I just...” He sighs, dropping his head to stare at his hands. “I want you to tell me things. I don’t want us to have secrets.”

Kei reaches for Tadashi’s hands, cupping them softly in his own. He waits till Tadashi looks up before he speaks, holding brown eyes with gold. “I’m going to tell you now, Tadashi. It’s...I don’t have a life outside of you.” Tadashi smiles a little at this, exhaling a small laugh. Kei’s tension eases minutely. “Another soldier asked me to meet him. He said he might know how to end the war.”

Tadashi’s eyes widen, and he grips at Kei’s hands. “What?” he breathes. “How?”

“We flew to the wastes. And...there were chimaera there.” Tadashi’s grip tightens, but he doesn’t interrupt. “There were only two of them, but...they’re on our side. Well, not _our_ side, but they want peace. And they have a plan, but...” He pauses, looking deeply into Tadashi’s eyes. “The plan relies on us. Me and you.”

Tadashi’s breaths are shallow as he stares back at Kei. “I’m...What do we have to do?”

Kei gulps. He’d been dreading saying this, dreading having to put this weight on an already sinking Tadashi, but it has to be done. He steels himself the best he can, the feel of Tadashi’s hands in his the only small comfort. That’s what he focuses on as he speaks. 

“I have to kill your father.” He feels Tadashi bristle, knows that he wants to interrupt, but Kei goes on. “And you have to become the new emperor. The chimaera are working to convince their leader to agree to a peace treaty, and you have to accept their conditions.” He stops there, waiting for Tadashi to react.

“If you kill him,” Tadashi starts, voice quiet and shaky, “they won’t let you live.”

“I know.”

“Then you know I can’t agree to that plan, Tsukki.” In the candlelight of the room, Kei can see the tears that cling to Tadashi’s long, dark eyelashes, threatening to spill onto freckled cheeks.

“Tadashi, I’m sorry,” Kei whispers, afraid that if he speaks any louder, his voice will crack and he won’t be able to stop the tears either. He always knew that he would never have his happy ending with Tadashi, but it still stings. “It’s the only way–”

“No, it isn’t,” Tadashi cuts him off, voice still quiet but firm. Kei blinks down at him, confused. “I’ll do it. I’ll kill him.”

Kei’s response is instant, resolute and incontestable. “No.” Tadashi tries to interrupt, but the look on Kei’s face stops him. “No, Tadashi.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do, Kei.”

The use of Kei’s given name is like a slap to the face. Tadashi looks furious, and this time it’s Kei who is stunned to silence.

“I have been in love with you for far too long to let you die just when we might finally have a chance.” Tadashi is unflinching, the candlelight reflecting flames in his jasper eyes. “This is my fight, Kei. It has to be me.”

Nothing is ever simple for them. Not this, nor any moment leading up to it, but it could be. One day, it really could be.

“Okay,” Kei breathes, the word barely making it into the air before he is pressing his lips to Tadashi’s, finally, _finally._

Tadashi is still for a moment, but just as quickly he reaches up to bury his hands into Kei’s hair, fingers closing into fists around the wavy, blond strands and pulling Kei impossibly closer.

It’s a hard kiss, desperate and long-awaited, built up for so long that it overwhelms them both. But Kei is ablaze with it, his whole body white-hot at the feeling of Tadashi’s lips on his. Tadashi is the first to pull away; Kei would _never,_ would have been happy to spend the rest of his life with his lips against Tadashi’s. But they separate, Tadashi’s face tear-tracked but his eyes hopeful.

“I can’t believe all I had to do to get you to kiss me is plot to kill my father,” he laughs out, tears still rolling down his cheeks.

Kei can’t help but laugh in kind; not his usual smirk or sneer, but a real belly-laugh that only ever comes out when he’s with Tadashi. It’s hard to tell whether they’re laughing or crying in the end, but it doesn’t matter. They’re together. However this fateful story is to end, they’re together.

-x-

“Kageyama!”

Hinata is yelling before his feet even touch the ground, setting Tobio instantly on edge. _This is it, we’ve been found out, everything is over–_

“It’s on! The plan is on!” Hinata calls breathlessly as he stumbles to where Tobio had been sitting in the grass but had leapt up at Hinata’s first cry. “The price said yes!” is the last thing he says before he is sweeping Tobio into a tight hug, twirling him around as if he were weightless.

“What? Put me down, idiot!” Tobio shouts, and Hinata obeys, planting Tobio’s hooves back on the ground but not releasing him from his hold.

“This is it, Tobio,” Hinata grins up at him, and now that Tobio’s heart rate is returning to its regular speed, he feels the weight of Hinata’s words. _This is it._

So it’s on. Thoughts run wild in Tobio’s head as he flies back to the city before sunrise, the previously hypothetical plans becoming very solid, very real. The emperor will die, and _soon,_ which means that it is now up to Tobio and Suga to somehow convince the chimaera and, most importantly, the Warlord, that peace with the seraphim is a possibility.

Of course, they must be smart about this; they aren’t to give anything away. Their job is to simply plant the seed, nurture the hope so that when the time comes, maybe their brethren will be ready to accept a treaty.

It should be easy enough, Tobio thinks. The chimaera have been on the losing side for far too long, forced underground to live in darkness while seraphim bask in the sun. He hopes that the chance at a real life will be enough incentive for the masses to push for peace, even with all the ingrained animosity towards seraphim. Convincing the Warlord to concede may not be as simple, however.

If they can even get an audience with him, that is. The Warlord is the leader of the chimaera, elected by the people in the hopes that he will lead them to freedom. The current Warlord has only held the position for a few years, having superseded his grandfather, who had led them for close to a century before. Ukai Ikkei had been a fair leader, a Warlord who put the good of the chimaera ahead of all else. Tobio only hopes that the new Warlord holds the same values.

Tobio wakes Suga as soon as he arrives in their room before dawn, shaking him awake excitedly.

Blearily Suga blinks himself to consciousness. “Tobio, what’s going on?” he slurs, rubbing a limp hand at his eyes.

“It’s happening, Suga,” Tobio says, barely able to keep the excitement from his voice. “It’s time.”

It’s in moments like these when Tobio is the most glad that Suga is on their side. Were it up to Tobio alone to convince anyone of anything, the cause would be lost. But not Suga. Suga is observant and astute, allowing him to pinpoint people’s soft spots and use them to his advantage. And he is charming, able to make anyone like him. Not only this, but he has connections, knows just the right people for anything they might need.

All in all, he is the perfect chimaera for the job.

Suga grins, eyes instantly sharpening. “I’ll speak to Shimizu today.”

-x-

The Warlord has never been an easy man to get hold of, not back when it was Ukai Ikkei, and not now that it is Ukai Keishin. Luckily, Koushi has always loved a challenge.

“Shimizu?” he calls as he opens the door to her office. He’s long since given up on knocking, having known Shimizu for longer than he cares to remember.

“Sugawara,” she greets him, voice soft and silken from where she rests behind her desk. “Nice to see you.”

Her thick tail is coiled beneath her, scales so black they shimmer iridescent in the yellow lantern-light of the room. Shimizu’s main aspect is snake, her body scaled and reptilian from the waist down, the skin of her human torso smooth and fair and now covered by her pale tunic. She regards him over her glasses as she tucks a lock of sable hair behind her ear.

“Good to see you too, Shimizu,” he grins. “It’s been a while.”

It really has; as a trainee, he’d had plenty of time to spend bothering Shimizu as she tried to go about her administrative duties, but between deployment and his other duties, there hasn’t been too much time for frivolous socialisation. And that’s not to mention the whole seraph-coup they’ve been planning.

“Hmm,” she hums absently, slate-grey eyes returning to the documents in her hands. “Was there something you needed?”

Koushi chuckles to himself. Of course she had seen right through him. He walks forward to sit in one of the chairs that face Shimizu’s desk, leaning back and crossing one pawed leg over the other. She doesn’t look up, intently studying the words on the paper before her. She always has been so focused.

“I was wondering if you’d be able to arrange an audience with the Warlord for me,” he says, not bothering with any build-up or beating around the bush.

This gives her pause, eyes stilling on the page a second before she peers up at Koushi, expression unchanged. “Is this a serious request, Sugawara?” she asks evenly.

He sits up straight now, uncrossing his legs and leaning forward. “It is, Shimizu. Do you think it’ll be possible?”

Shimizu places the paper on her desk and clasps her hands on top of it, eyes trained on Koushi’s. “What is your reason?” she asks instead of answering.

He considers her silently for a second. She has always been a good friend to him, as kind as she is calm, and Koushi knows that her aloofness is simply a mask for her shyness. But Shimizu takes her job as the Warlord’s head administrator very seriously, and friendship alone won’t be enough for her to grant him this favour. Still, he needs to be smart about this; while Shimizu is one of his oldest friends, he can’t reveal too much. Not just yet.

“I have some information for him that could help end the war.”

Her eyes widen at this, her first physical reaction since he’d entered her office. She quickly regains herself, eyes still intent on Koushi. “Are you able to divulge any of that information to me?”

“I am not,” he replies calmly, the tension in the room thickening the already stagnant air around them. He hadn’t wanted this to become a stand-off, but he has little choice.

After a pause, Shimizu nods slowly. “I will arrange for you to speak to him this evening. I imagine he will be eager to hear what you have to say,” she says, moving to pick up her document once more. “Be at the Cathedral at dusk.”

Koushi exhales a swoosh of air, standing from his seat. “Thank you, Shimizu,” he says, tone genuine and grateful. It’s not until he’s about to open the door that he remembers he’d missed something. “Oh,” he says, turning back to face her. She raises her eyes in acknowledgement. “I won’t be alone. Tobio needs to be there, too.”

She raises an eyebrow. “The young healer?” Koushi nods. “I see. Very well.”

He nods, offering her a thankful smile before leaving. Letting out another sigh as he closes the door, he lets himself revel in his success for just a moment. Once done, he heads off in search of Tobio. After all, the hard part is still to come.

-x-

If all goes to plan, tomorrow night will be the night. But Shouyou isn’t thinking about that. Shouyou is only thinking of the velvet feel of Kageyama’s skin beneath his fingertips. The way it prickles with goosebumps as a breeze rolls through the lush grass. Shouyou angles his wings against the gust, shelters Kageyama from the chill and tries to warm him with the seraph fire that lives within the feathers.

He’s still high off his win from tonight, having bested Kageyama in a duel for once. But Kageyama had wiped that smug grin off his face afterwards, making his brow crease and his jaw fall slack and his body writhe. And Kageyama’s smirk always makes heat tingle up his spine, his whole body wired and ready for what he knew was to come next.

There’s been a question on his tongue all night, but he’s been almost too scared to ask it. And he’s been – well, kind of occupied, with sparring and with _other things._ Now, though, as they lie, bodies tangled in the soft grass, the constant roar of the waterfall like a second layer of silence, Shouyou thinks he might be brave enough to ask. So he does.

“What was he like?” Shouyou whispers, close enough that Kageyama can hear him with ease.

“He wasn’t what I expected,” Kageyama replies, face settling into its almost habitual frown. “He was...young.”

“What did you tell him?” It’s an innocent question, no accusation behind it, but Kageyama still squints at Shouyou.

“We didn’t tell him anything,” he says, tone short. Shouyou raises his hands placatingly, and Kageyama relaxes again. “We convinced him to begin drafting a treaty. He doesn’t think it’ll be any use, but Suga can be very persuasive.”

“How did he react? Like, when you suggested we stop fighting?”

“So many questions, Hinata,” Kageyama sighs, and Shouyou elbows him in the ribs. With a grunt, Kageyama continues. “We thought he’d be against it, but he was so _open_ to everything we had to say.” He sounds dazed, disbelieving. “I mean, he hates your emperor,” he admits, side-eyeing Shouyou, who just shrugs. “But I think with this new one, we actually have a real chance.”

Shouyou can’t help but beam, his sigh releasing more tension than he knew he had in him. He feels like he’s in a dream, the goal they’ve held for the better part of a year finally close enough to touch, to _taste._ He runs his hand over Kageyama’s side, the pale skin once again smooth under his hands. One day, and soon, perhaps, he might be able to wake up to this skin. While Kageyama is at home beneath the moonlight, Shouyou longs to see him in the sun.

One day, and soon, perhaps, that just may come to pass.

-x-

Tadashi has never been the violent type. He’s never even killed a bug, instead looking for beauty in all living things and treating them with the kindness with which he himself would like to be treated. But as he sits here, at his father’s right hand, he does not see beauty. He sees a vile man, one who knows nothing but greed and lust and selfishness. One who slept with other women as Tadashi’s mother lay dying. One who cared nothing for his son, and who would destroy the world for power and ego. No, Tadashi has never been the violent type, but he is willing to make an exception for this man.

There are few instances where the emperor is without his personal guard; they even stand guard as he bathes. But His Eminence dismisses his guards whenever he deigns to meet with his son. Tadashi thinks it may be out of some odd sense of shame; his father is happy for his guards to see their emperor naked and vulnerable, but would hide away his son, as if having Tadashi seen would bring disgrace upon him.

So as they dine now, a rare and usually unwelcome occurrence, the guards stand outside the door. There is no one in the room but Tadashi and his father, no sound to be heard but the chewing and gulping of a man who will die tonight.

Tadashi’s heart is beating rapidly; the only thing quelling the shake in his hands is the thought that Tsukishima is on the other side of the door, as well as Azumane and Ennoshita. Tadashi knows that both guards are good men; he almost wishes he’d been able to get to know them better. But none of that matters now – he has a job to do.

He feels the heavy weight of the tiny vial in the pocket of his pants. Tsukishima had given it to him, said it contained the powdered root of some plant used in chimaera healing. All he has to do is empty this vial into his father’s wine, and nothing will ever be the same again.

It’s easy to drop the powder into the cup unnoticed, such is just how little attention Tadashi’s father pays him. He does it as he fills the cup, pouring wine from the bottle as he clumsily sprinkles the powder in amongst the liquid, the shake of his hands almost causing him to spill. He breathes deeply through his nose, mouth clamped shut for fear he might vomit. His father doesn’t even look up from his food, doesn’t even pause to thank Tadashi. As petty as it may seem, such a small act of ignorance settles Tadashi’s unease. He knows that he will not mourn this man.

He doesn’t dare blink as he watches his father’s hand wrap around the stem of the goblet, bringing it to his lips as his other hand still picks at his plate. Tadashi simply stares as the emperor all but drains its contents, setting the cup back down with a clatter. There’s no turning back now. Tadashi’s breath is held as he waits, eyes never straying from that cruel and vile face, a face that he’s thankful does not resemble his own.

The effects of the poison are slow. Tsukishima had told him as much, but that was it – maybe it would have been wise to let him explain more, but Tadashi had stopped him, afraid that such knowledge would only make this harder. But now, Tadashi is unsure how this could be any harder than it already is. The first sign that anything has changed is small, a shortness of breath that could be passed off as nothing more than eating too quickly. Then comes the swelling, the constricting of the esophagus that makes it hard to swallow, hard to breathe.

The emperor finally stops eating then, eyes going wide as the food sticks in his throat. The skin of his face reddens, blotches, bloats. But it isn’t the choking that kills him. No, from the way he stops clawing at his neck to clutch at his chest, eyes now bulging and bloodshot, it seems that his heart is what does it. Tadashi’s own heart pounds furiously against his ribs as his father’s seizes and twists, strangled breaths finally fading to silence.

Tadashi’s father slumps in his chair, hand falling limp from his chest, red-webbed eyes glossing over. And that’s it. No final words, no accusations, no apologies. He’s just dead, and Tadashi is left panting into the silence, hands gripping the edge of the table. He’d done it. The emperor was dead.

When Tadashi finally manages to tear his eyes from the lifeless body of a man he despised, he regains his composure enough to remember what he has to do next.

He calls out, a cry for someone to _please help_ his _poor father,_ and the guards come bursting through his chamber door. The sight of Tsukishima is like the first drop of water on a parched tongue, a need finally fulfilled as his protector surges to his side.

Ennoshita and Azumane rush to the emperor’s body, the dullness of his wings presenting his state long before anyone has a chance to check for a pulse. The guards check regardless, desperate for any sign of life. Tadashi knows there will be none.

Then the questions come. _What happened? Why didn’t you do anything? Why didn’t you call for help sooner?_ But the guards seem detached, calm as they interrogate Tadashi. Ennoshita asks the questions as Azumane looks on with a furrowed brow. Tsukishima’s presence is solid beside Tadashi, his gauntlet-clad hand firm on Tadashi’s shoulder.

Each stuttered answer seems to ease suspicion. Tadashi’s well-known gentleness works in his favour, as he had assured Tsukishima it would. _Of course_ Prince Tadashi didn’t do anything, Prince Tadashi could _never,_ he was probably just _so scared_ that he froze instead of getting help. And anyway, the emperor was ageing, and had been known to lead a gluttonous lifestyle – this must just have just been his bad health catching up to him. An unfortunate accident. A terrible tragedy.

It’s laughable, how easy it all is. And just like that, as simply as waking from a dream, the weight of the world comes to rest on Tadashi’s shoulders. The only solace is that he doesn’t have to carry it alone.

-x-

The transfer of power from the late emperor to Tadashi is...odd. Kei has never witnessed such a historical event, Tadashi’s father having begun his reign long before either Kei or Tadashi were born. He wonders if the oddness perhaps stems from knowledge; witnessing the many condolences offered to Tadashi over the death of his father is sure to feel strange, knowing that Tadashi is the one who killed him.

And in all his years protecting the prince, Kei had never stopped to consider Tadashi’s true power or influence. They had always existed behind closed doors, out of the context of the wider kingdom, where Tadashi was just Tadashi – Kei’s oldest and truest friend, Kei’s duty, Kei’s love. But his Tadashi is about to become one of the most powerful people in the world, a fact that makes so much sense in theory, but so little in practice.

Tadashi’s coronation is a muted affair, at his own request – and of course that request is granted, everyone believing Tadashi to be in mourning. But Kei is there, standing by Tadashi’s side as he always has. Proudly he watches as his Tadashi becomes the 14th Yamaguchi to hold the title of Emperor of the Seraphim. He watches, knowing that his Tadashi is to be this world’s salvation.

-x-

There’s a sly curiosity in the Warlord’s eyes as he regards Tobio and Suga, the barest hint of a smirk on his lips. He tilts his head, his wide antlers tilting in kind.

“I’m not going to ask how you two knew this would happen,” he says. “And don’t try to deny it because I _know_ you did,” he warns as Suga’s mouth opens to protest. “I don’t know how you knew, and frankly, I don’t care.”

Tobio spares a glance at Suga. Suga’s mouth is set in a hard line, all signs of the usual playfulness gone from his face. His brow is set, his head held high and ready to take whatever is to come their way. Tobio regrets, for a moment, ever dragging him into this; while none of this would have been possible without Suga, Tobio only wishes that he could have spared his friend the punishment. But there is a fierce pride in Suga’s expression, one that says that, given the chance, he wouldn’t do anything differently. Strengthened but Suga’s resolve, Tobio braces himself for their sentence.

“I want the two of you to know,” the Warlord continues, “that what you have done will not be forgotten.”

He pauses. Breath held, Tobio waits for the end.

“That is why I am appointing you both as ambassadors. You will be the link between the chimaera and the seraphim, and you will work tirelessly with your seraph counterparts to ensure that this peace is lasting.”

Tobio’s brain takes a few seconds to catch up, but as it does his eyes go wide. He feels Suga buzz with energy beside him, but he can’t even move to look. All he can do is blink dumbly as a grin breaks out on the Warlord’s face.

“You mean we’re not in trouble?” he hears himself ask, apparently working on autopilot.

Ukai laughs then, rough and raspy. “You had a hand in ending a war that has spanned centuries. I don’t think trouble would be a fitting reward.”

Finally it clicks. “The war is over?” Tobio breathes, scarcely daring to believe that it might be true.

“It is,” Ukai confirms, his tone surprisingly soft. “The new emperor agreed to our terms, as I’m sure you knew he would. He’s sending a couple of envoys in a week to finalise the treaty.” He smiles knowingly. “Something tells me you two should be the ones to meet them.”

-x-

As much as they had hoped and dreamed about this, Shouyou could never have prepared for how he would feel in this moment. The sun is high in the sky as he, Daichi, and Azumane fly over the wastes to where they are to meet the Warlord’s ambassadors. As the midday sun beats down on his back, all Shouyou can think is that they did it. He’s so high on it that he almost misses Daichi’s order to land.

What he doesn’t miss is how inken hair shines like silk in the sunlight, or how the blue of Kageyama’s eyes moves like quiet water as he grins up at Shouyou. And it’s this; this is what it was all for, every second of Shouyou’s life leading up to this very moment.

Everything else melts away as Shouyou’s feet touch the ground, not a thing in sight but Kageyama, _Tobio,_ real and here and bathed in the sun’s warm glow. A culmination of every sighed wish, of every whispered plan they ever made. In that moment, nothing exists but Shouyou and Tobio, a seraph and a chimaera, brought together by fate and destined to change the world.

Shouyou sees nothing but Tobio, the chimaera who saved his life for no reason but that he wanted to. And his shoulder aches, burns as it always does, the pain of his injury constant and intense. But it’s a pain that he cherishes, a permanent reminder of the day that brought Tobio into his life. It was worth it – all of it was worth it. As he takes Tobio’s hand, Shouyou knows he would do it all again, a thousand times over, just for this. He looks at Tobio, pale skin so radiant in the midday sun, and remembers how he had looked on that scorched, ashen battlefield so long ago.

He will always remember, in vivid detail, how his chimaera boy, tall and lithe and so, so beautiful, had saved him, not just then but in every moment since. And how, in doing so, he had saved the world.


	4. Epilogue

The sun’s heat is almost oppressive on the back of Tobio’s neck, his pale skin far from suited to its rays. Not that he minds though; he’s sure that he’ll adjust soon enough. There’s movement all around him, the general bustle of seraphim and chimaera alike as they work to rebuild a city. As they work _together._ The thought still sometimes takes Tobio by surprise.

He passes a few familiar faces as he walks through the construction site. Daichi and Tanaka pour over a blueprint while Suga shouts out instructions of varying validity; one of the newer seraph ambassadors, a timid girl named Yachi, blushes as Shimizu explains something inaudible to her. Tobio would never have dreamed that in just a few short months, there would be such easy co-operation between these life-long enemies.

Of course, it isn’t like this everywhere. There are those on both sides that still distrust the other, that contest the decisions of the Warlord and the seraph leader to make peace and foster unity. But as loud as they are, Tobio thinks that this scene is louder. That these creatures who have willingly put aside their differences in favour of finding common ground, their quality says far more than the quantity of skeptics ever could.

As delighted as he is to see the camaraderie throughout the site, Tobio has a destination in mind, one he would like to reach sooner rather than later.

These past few months have been a whirlwind of meetings upon meetings upon meetings. About the dissolution of the empire, about the construction of a new chimaera capital, about what the future may hold for the seraph and chimaera races. And Tobio has attended them all, sitting so often across from Hinata as their leaders discussed politics while the two of them wanted only to touch. With the nights just as packed as the days, Tobio has barely had a minute alone with Hinata since the signing of the treaty.

But today is the day. The first day of construction, their first day outside of meeting chambers, their first day of _freedom._

Tobio knows where Hinata is going to be – _of course_ he knows, with only one place he _could_ be. And while a part of Tobio feels guilty at the prospect of leaving the work to his peers, the more prominent voice in his head tells him that he has _earned_ this. So once out of sight of the construction grounds, he takes off on leathern wings, flying a path that he knows by heart.

The way the sun glitters off the water’s surface is mesmerising, a sight that Tobio has never seen but very much enjoys. However, his gaze is drawn from it by a familiar head of flame-bright hair, an equally brilliant smile on that wonderful face.

Hinata reaches for Tobio as he nears land, taking a pale hand in his own and guiding Tobio gently down til his hooves touch the ground. Their bodies are flush, Hinata’s head tipped all the way back to grin up at Tobio.

“Hello there, ambassador,” he greets, his eyes sparkling pure amber in the warm daylight.

“Shut up, moron,” Tobio snorts, before leaning down to capture Hinata’s lips with his own.

Hinata tastes like light, sweet like mandarins and as warm as a spark. Tobio snakes his arms around Hinata’s waist, tanned arms coming up to link behind Tobio’s neck, each pulling the other closer, _closer._ They stay that way for a while, lost in each other after what feels like an age apart, but eventually they do part, lips swollen and chests heaving.

“You didn’t bring your swords,” Tobio comments when his brain returns to the present.

“Yeah, well,” Hinata shrugs, “I was hoping we could take a break from fighting. Just for a little while.” Then he raises an eyebrow, eyeing Tobio with a sly smile. “I guess we’ll just have to find something else to do with all our free time.”

Tobio can’t help but grin, his heartbeat quickening at the underlying suggestion.

They spend the afternoon much how they used to spend their nights, entangled and enamoured. But the sun’s heat on their bare bodies is a constant, wonderful reminder that while the two of them remain unchanged, the world around them has entered a new age. One in which they are free to exist, to live, and to love; together.

-x-

The door of Tadashi’s chamber clicks shut behind them, and Kei watches as Tadashi moves further into the room, falling backwards onto his bed with an exaggerated sigh. The hint of a smile pulls at Kei’s lips. The change in Tadashi since the coronation has been extreme, and so, so welcome. Even his movements are different, no longer slow and softened in an attempt to avoid drawing attention, but now as large and full of life as they had been when they were children.

Sitting up, Tadashi looks over to where Kei still hovers by the door. “Are you planning on standing there all night, soldier?” he jibes, eyebrow quirked cheekily.

“I just might,” Kei replies, fighting to keep his face straight and his tone serious. “It is my job, after all.”

With another sigh – though this one seems more fond than anything – Tadashi rises from the bed to approach Kei. “So sarcastic, Kei,” he tuts, beginning to remove plates of Kei’s armour for him. “Anyone else would be banished for that, you know.”

Kei lets himself smile this time. “Lucky that I’m not anyone else.”

“Lucky indeed,” Tadashi concedes, shaking his head as he continues to dismantle Kei’s armour, piece by piece.

When all of the metal plates lie in a haphazard pile on the ground, Tadashi reaches up to cup Kei’s jaw in his palm. Kei melts into the touch, Tadashi’s skin soft and warm.

“I never did thank you,” Tadashi says, voice quiet to match his quiet smile.

“Hmm?” Kei hums absently, nuzzling into Tadashi’s hand. “What for?”

“For trusting me,” Tadashi replies, and now Kei is paying full attention. “For _believing_ in me. You’ve always believed in me, even when I didn’t deserve it.”

Kei places his own hand over Tadashi’s, smiling down at him tenderly. “You’ve always deserved it, Tadashi.”

Tadashi smiles back, before stretching up to place a soft kiss against Kei’s lips. Kei will never get used to it, the satin feel of Tadashi’s lips on his, the way his heart skips a beat _every single time_ they kiss. And every single time, Kei feels bereft when Tadashi pulls away.

But then Tadashi takes Kei’s hand, leading him to the bed. “Well, you deserve some rest,” he says, sitting Kei down on the finely woven sheets. “You can’t spend _all_ of your time watching after me.”

 _Just you try and stop me,_ Kei wants to say. Because a life where he gets to watch over Tadashi, to be his shield – it’s all Kei has ever wanted. 

As Kei looks up at Tadashi, the love of his life, the dim lantern-light a halo around his head, he finally feels the weight of everything hit him. They did it. Somehow, that whole, impossible plan had worked, and, by some even greater miracle, Tadashi is _his._ Tadashi _loves_ him. Kei thinks that he must have done something fantastic in a past life to be as blessed as he is right now.

“I love you so much,” he breathes, the words that have lived in his chest for so long, so many years, finally breaching the air.

Tadashi’s smile widens, and he pushes Kei to lie down before lying beside him. They shuffle close, like they did as nervous teens, and then as mournful adults, except now they share grins and giggles instead of hushed tears. In fact, it’s been months since Tadashi last cried himself to sleep. He’s brighter, his smiles less subdued, and his laughter has a fullness that Kei hadn’t heard in a long time.

Finally the rest of the world sees the Tadashi that Kei has always known, and they know, too, his worth. Tadashi will forever be known as the leader who fostered peace – not an emperor, but simply a leader. The road to where they are today was never easy, never simple, and for so long Kei had no hope that it ever would be.

But now, as they lie in Tadashi’s bed – no, _their_ bed – so close that their breaths mingle, Kei almost can’t believe it. They’re finally getting their happy ending, only it isn’t an ending at all – it’s a beginning.

-x-

Shouyou wakes with sun, more rested than he has been in months – years, probably. He’s alone, but not for long; if all goes to plan, he’ll never wake alone again.

For months he’s worked on his project in secret, stealing away any moment he can. It hasn’t been easy, not with all the work they’ve been doing to build the new chimaera capital, but progress has been coming along wonderfully on both projects – a fact of which Shouyou is immensely proud.

They probably owe most of it to the snake chimaera, Shimizu, and her tireless planning and organisation. Shouyou likes her, even if she doesn’t speak much; she always offers him a smile when he greets her, and she’s even taken a seraph apprentice under her – well, not wing, but you know. Shouyou also takes great pride in the number of seraphim who volunteered to help with the construction, soldiers who he only vaguely knows stepping up and surprising him.

He’s seen Azumane, the former Imperial Guard, laughing with a tiny lemur-aspect chimaera whose striped tail matches the bright shock of pale amongst his dark hair. Despite their rocky start, Daichi and Suga have been working well together, and serve as an example for what can be achieved by seraph and chimaera co-operation. Even Tsukishima’s been to help a few times, and Shouyou is grateful, knowing how he hates to be away from Tadashi.

The knowledge that the undertaking is left in good hands helps when Shouyou takes his leave to work on his own task, but there have still been difficulties. Mainly, hiding it from Tobio. Shouyou wants it to be a surprise, but keeping it hidden has proven quite the challenge; after all, how is one supposed to hide a _house_ from someone? Even in its early stages, the structure was far too big to go unnoticed, so Shouyou has had to be creative.

Suga has proven a very effective ally in this; at Shouyou’s request he’s been occupying more of Tobio’s time, making it so he’s been unable to make the journey to their waterfall. Of course, Shouyou has seen Tobio in these months, only he’s had to make sure that their time together is spent away from their usual meeting place.

And it’s been tough; Shouyou can see the way Tobio’s face falls in disappointment when Shouyou tells him they’re too busy to fly there, can tell that it’s bothering him. But Shouyou only hopes that it’s going to be worth it. That, after today, they can wake up every day in their paradise, and to each other. That they can have their home there, just as Shouyou promised. It _has_ to have been worth it.

Soon, he will finally bring Tobio here, so, _so_ soon, but first he needs to make sure everything is perfect.

Shouyou takes off on his wings, flying the same path that he’s flown countless times before, the destination that has always felt like home at last becoming one in earnest. His home with Tobio – after all of these stolen moments under moonlight, all of this time living half a life together, _their home._

He lands before the structure’s front door, taking a moment to admire his work. To most, it wouldn’t really look anything special, a simple single story cabin, made mostly of wood chopped with Shouyou’s own hands. The work had been agonising, the pain in his shoulder a blaze so intense that sometimes he was sure he wouldn’t be able to endure it. But he always did, always made it to the end of the day sore and exhausted and desperate to collapse into a bed that also contained his love. However impatient as Shouyou always has been, this he can wait for.

The structure is definitely sturdy; Shimizu’s seraph protegée Yachi had drawn the designs herself, and Shouyou had been assured that as long as he followed them, the resulting building would be habitable. And maybe Shouyou had spent a few hours whacking at his freshly built walls with the blunt end of his axe – you know, just to make sure.

Opening the front door, Shouyou takes in the interior. It’s richly furnished, far more decadent than the exterior suggests, and it’s all thanks to Tadashi. Well, Shouyou supposes Tsukishima deserves some credit too, having been the one to initially relay Shouyou’s plans to their leader and then deliver the gifted furniture. Still, Shouyou only accepted what they’d need; beautifully carved dressers, a mahogany dining table with matching chairs, all the necessary cooking equipment. And, of course, a large bed, piled with plush pillows and spread with the softest sheets.

Pride swells in Shouyou’s chest. Yes, this is it. Everything is ready.

Shouyou asks Tobio to meet him by their waterfall after sunset. He had made his promise by moonlight; it seems only fitting that he fulfill it under its glow. But Tobio seems closed-off when Shouyou speaks to him, less responsive than usual, even in their brief encounter. Shouyou supposes it makes sense – he knows how these past few months must look to Tobio, and only hopes that all will be forgiven once the reason is revealed.

He flies out early, wanting to make sure everything is absolutely perfect when Tobio gets here. The lanterns are lit inside the house, their soft, yellow glow spilling light from the open shutters. The house will be the first thing Tobio sees overhead; Shouyou’s heart flutters anxiously at the thought.

Dusk breaks, leaving the sky a deep pink over the ridges of the mountains, and Shouyou waits outside the cabin, eyes turned upwards in search of his Tobio. A silhouette breaches the peaks, the outline of wide, dark wings blocking the stars from view. Shouyou’s pulse stutters. _This is it._

Tobio is scowling when he lands, eyes bypassing Shouyou to stare instead at the house that sits on the lush grass of their oasis.

“Tobio,” Shouyou breathes, feeling more sheepish than he’d thought he would; he’d expected to be a lot more excited in this moment, but Tobio’s frown has him more nervous than anticipated.

“Hinata,” Tobio greets, mouth a hard line. “What is this?”

“It’s for you,” Shouyou rushes out. “I mean, us. You know, like I promised.” He pauses for a second, waiting for Tobio’s reaction, but his face remains unchanged. “Will you come inside?”

“Is this what you’ve been doing while you’ve been avoiding me?” Tobio asks bluntly, ignoring Shouyou’s question. He’s finally looking at Shouyou, and he looks _furious._

“Tobio, I wasn’t _avoiding_ you!” he all but wails. “I just wanted to surprise you!”

There’s a moment of silence where Shouyou just watches as Tobio seethes, smoke practically coming from his nose. Then he takes a step forward, and Shouyou jumps.

“You idiot!” Tobio barks, jabbing Shouyou in his left shoulder – of course the left, because even when he’s mad he’s still thinking of Shouyou. “I thought you didn’t want to be with me anymore!” He pushes Shouyou again, but this time it’s weaker. If Shouyou didn’t know any better, he’d say that Tobio looks relieved.

 _“Tobioooo!”_ he exclaims, unable to help the grin from spreading across his face. “I did this because I want to be with you. I want to be with you forever, all the time. Right here.” He holds his hand out. “So will you come inside?”

The frown finally drops from Tobio’s face, the very corner of his lip quirking minutely. He takes Shouyou’s hand, and they go inside.

Shouyou watches as Tobio’s face lights up, taking in the scene in front of him. His wide, blue eyes dart around, trying to see everything all at once. Then he looks back at Shouyou, and his eyes are wet, his mouth wobbling slightly.

“It’s for us?” he asks, voice shaking. Smiling, Shouyou nods. “You built this?” is Tobio’s next question.

Shouyou’s smile widens. “Yep. I did promise you I would, Tobio. Have I ever broken a promise to you?”

Finally Tobio laughs, wiping at his face with his free hand. “I guess not.” He sniffles. “I’m still mad at you for ignoring me, though.”

“Wanna fight about it?” Shouyou’s grin turns sly.

The unshed tears seem to dry as Tobio smirks back, sniffling once more before speaking. “You hiding swords somewhere around here?”

“Oh yeah.”

They don their weapons, leaving the house to stand, once more, face to face, poised to fight in the gentle moonlight of their haven. A soft breeze blows through the valley, rustling the feathers of Shouyou’s wings. His heart hammers in his chest in anticipation, his hands tightening around his swords for the first time in months.

He doesn’t miss fighting – not really – but there’s something about sparring with Tobio that always sets his nerves alight. There’s a mischievous glint in Tobio’s eyes, a confident smirk on his face that makes heat settle in Shouyou’s stomach.

“Don’t expect me to go easy on you, seraph,” Tobio taunts, and it sends a shiver up Shouyou’s spine.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, beast,” he calls back.

And suddenly they’re charging, colliding with a clash of steel, the screech of metal on metal ringing out in the stillness of their sanctuary. This is them; a seraph and a chimaera, as opposing as night and day, and fated to be trapped in an eternal battle. Except they changed their fates. They fought for peace, for the freedom to be together, and they won.

No blood will be drawn tonight, nor ever again, centuries of war ended by a seraph and a chimaera, and the simple wish that they be free to love. And in this age of peace, in this house built by the hands of an angel, those two lovers will live, at last, together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who read this!! I so loved writing this and it already holds a very special place in my heart, so I really hope you enjoyed reading it!!!
> 
> If you feel so inclined, you can come and scream at me on twitter [@burnthisoka](https://twitter.com/burnthisoka) – I very much welcome it!!!
> 
> And _please_ read the 'Daughter of Smoke and Bone' series; you won't regret it!!


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